Push

Monday 3 October 2005 06.47 EDT
First published on Monday 3 October 2005 06.47 EDT

Two years ago, when Sylvie Guillem first pitted herself against the hurtling athleticism and liquid stillness of Russell Maliphant's choreography, the effect was transforming. This most elegant of classical ballerinas seemed a new dancer. But if the chemistry is extreme when Guillem is performing Maliphant's choreography, it looks even more striking in this new programme when she's dancing with him. On the ballet stage this could never have happened - Guillem in point shoes would have towered over Maliphant's compact, quiet body. Yet from their first entrance, where Guillem crouches on Maliphant's shoulders then unwinds with flickering grace around him, the affinity between them is charged and immense.

In creating this duet, Maliphant has referenced Guillem's ballerina repertory and there's a classical shape to many of their manoeuvres as they track their slow journey upstage together. Yet there is nothing balletic about the edgy exchange of energy that keeps the movement alive, dangerous and clamorously expressive - so whether Guillem is flying with limbs stretched above Maliphant's head, rolling headlong over his back or turning the relationship back on itself and cradling him in her arms it feels as if their dialogue is inventing itself as it goes along.

There are moments when the danger could be pushed to a more climactic edge - but such is the beauty of these dancers, you could happily watch them doing nothing. If there is a touch of genius it is partly due to lighting designer Michael Hulls who has a gift for gilding, sculpting, polishing and bewitching dance so that it seems to inhabit a world of infinite strangeness and possibility.